


a question for the moon and stars

by calmthestorms



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Humour, M/M, Vulnerability, so much fluff though oh my god, this is very goopy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28205196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calmthestorms/pseuds/calmthestorms
Summary: “Let me tell you what I think,” Tadashi says softly. “I think you’re distracted, because…” He tugs Kei over onto his side so they’re face-to-face again, and Kei lets him, unable to be anything other than utterly complacent. Tadashi examines him closely for a long moment, and ah—there the freckles are again. And his lips, but Kei’s trying not to think about that too hard, yet, because he might explode.Tadashi smiles, that mischievous delight erupting in his eyes again like a supernova. “Kei,” he says, a laugh bubbling in his voice, and Kei knows his boyfriend has figured him out. “You’re allowed to ask me for things.”In which even with years of friendship, and even after getting together, asking for things from their partner is hard for Kei and Tadashi.-Written for @Lislisliso on twitter for the HQ Secret Santa 2020 event!
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 123
Collections: Haikyuu Secret Santa 2020





	a question for the moon and stars

**Author's Note:**

> This is for @Lislisliso on twitter for the HQ Secret Santa 2020 event on twitter! This is incredibly sappy Tsukkiyama; it's so cheesy but I hope you'll love it!

Tadashi has forty-three freckles in the space between his cheeks and his eyes, and Kei hasn’t yet touched a single one.

They’re lying side by side and face-to-face on Kei’s bed , half a foot of distance between them that is slowly receding. The fan spins above them lazily, more for the sound than for a draft in the rapidly-cooling weeks before winter arrives. Tadashi is talking about practice that afternoon, something about a first year spiking a ball into Hinata’s head that had caused the entire gym to burst into uproarious laughter. Even now, recounting it, Tadashi’s eyes are scrunched up in mirth, a beautiful grin splitting his face.

Kei isn’t listening at all. His eyes are fixed on Tadashi’s freckles and the itch in his fingers. He could touch them right now. Just reach up, press his fingers into his boyfriend’s cheeks and map out the constellations etched into his skin. He thinks that his hands might have been made for this—that Tadashi’s stars are made for the moon living in Kei’s skin.

Kei isn’t one to broadcast it, but he is an _absolute_ romantic. Akiteru laughs about it all the time, even though he’s the one who turns into more of a blubbering wreck at romance films than Kei does. In his literature classes, he seeks out the love poems, mouths them silently, commits them to memory for a time he can say them later. He has known for quite a few years that it was Tadashi he was saving them for, and the day they officially got together three weeks ago was the day he began readying himself to say them one day. _The moon is pretty, isn’t it?_ he wants to tell Tadashi sometime—yes, it’s common, and classic, and overused, and perhaps a bit self-preening given his namesake, but Kei has a wellspring of love in his heart and he knows Tadashi would melt.

But thinking about it in theory and applying it in practice are, as he has found out, two _very_ different things. Thinking about saying any of that now seems utterly impossible, makes him feel uncomfortable and squirmy and exposed. He should have figured vulnerability would be his greatest mountain to climb, but how is it that he can’t even work up the courage to touch his boyfriend or kiss him? Or—and this is the bigger matter—how is that he can’t even ask Tadashi for the same?

“—kki? Tsukki? _Kei_.” Kei jolts, smoothly disguising the action as a stretch. Tadashi squints at him, clearly unimpressed. “I’ve been calling your name for a while. You haven’t been listening.”

“I have,” Kei says, monotone. He shifts onto his back and lets his eyes drift to the ceiling. The itch in his fingers stubbornly does not subside, even without Tadashi’s face directly in his view.

“Then tell me what I was just talking about.”

“Something something Hinata being a dumbass.”

Tadashi sighs heavily. Kei can hear the affection in the action, and his mouth twitches up a little.

“What were you thinking about?” Tadashi asks. He sidles closer. Kei can feel the warmth of him along his side, just centimeters away now. He finds his gaze being drawn back to Tadashi’s face, the curious glow in his eyes, the sardonic quirk to his smile. His chest feels like starlight.

“Nothing,” he manages. His fingers clench into and release from fists.

“Tsukki,” Tadashi whines, dragging the last syllable. His expression turns mischievous. “ _Kei_ ,” he murmurs, this time entirely seriously, completely at odds with the delight lurking in his eyes.

“Shut up, Tadashi,” Kei says. He can feel his face warming.

“ _Keiiii,_ ” Tadashi says. He presses right up against Kei’s side, arm slung loosely over Kei’s stomach. “Tell me! Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

Tadashi is so warm and so close, the weight of his arm solid and comforting. This should be enough. Why should Kei ask for more than this? He has lived his life on the barest of efforts, found enough pleasure in the smallest of pursuits. Volleyball might be different, and that’s still a maybe ( _no, it’s not_ , Kuroo’s voice says in his head, and he imagines stuffing his senpai into a suitcase and throwing it into the ocean), but why should he ask for more for anything else?

Because this is Tadashi. And this is a relationship. Bare minimums aren’t enough, or fair. Not to Tadashi, not to _Kei_.

“Let me tell you what I think,” Tadashi says softly. “I think you’re distracted, because…” He tugs Kei over onto his side so they’re face-to-face again, and Kei lets him, unable to be anything other than utterly complacent. Tadashi examines him closely for a long moment, and ah—there the freckles are again. And his lips, but Kei’s trying not to think about that too hard, yet, because he might explode.

Tadashi smiles, that mischievous delight erupting in his eyes again like a supernova. “Kei,” he says, a laugh bubbling in his voice, and Kei knows his boyfriend has figured him out. “You’re allowed to ask me for things.”

Kei breathes in deeply through his nose, and he nods. He reaches up slowly to Tadashi’s cheeks with shaking fingers.

Tadashi’s hands catch his, and he shakes his head.

“No,” Tadashi says, gentle but firm. “ _Ask me.”_

 _Bastard,_ Kei thinks sourly. Tadashi huffs softly, reading it on Kei’s face, but he waits, expectant.

Kei grits his teeth. “Tadashi,” he chokes out. “Can I—can I touch you?”

His boyfriend laughs. “Yes,” he whispers. “Can I touch you?”

Kei nods, breathless, and his fingers find home on Tadashi’s cheeks, just as Tadashi’s land on his. His boyfriend pries off his glasses, and Kei blinks.

“I can’t see your face that well anymore,” he grouches.

Tadashi smiles innocently. “So get closer.”

Kei does.

He lets his fingers trace Tadashi’s face to his heart’s content and adjusts to the gentle brushes of Tadashi’s hands on his skin.

“I love your eyes,” Tadashi murmurs, then cackles as Kei freezes. “Honestly, Tsukki, you’re such a wimp.”

“I’m just not used to it,” Kei protests. He pauses, then, in a rush of words, says, “I’ve wanted to trace your freckles since middle school.”

And he says, “You know that poetry I love so much? I want to say some of it to you one day.”

And, in the most grandiose act of bravery he’s had all night, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Tadashi’s eyes go wide, and he stares, speechless, for a long moment. His face turns steadily red. “Tsukkiiiiii,” he wails, burying his head into Kei’s shoulder.

Kei throws back his head and laughs, loud and delighted.

“You can dish it, but you can’t take it?” he teases. “You’re all talk, aren’t you?”

Tadashi glares at him, then leans up and kisses him. For a while after that, there’s no talking at all.

Tadashi has forty-three freckles in the space between his cheeks and his eyes, and by the end of the day, Kei has learned them and tucked them away like he has learned and tucked away his poetry: close to his heart, where only the light of the moon can reach them.

-

Tadashi should be basking in the warmth of this moment, but all his attention is fixed on the faint snatches of humming he can catch from his boyfriend.

They’re sitting facing the window on an armchair in Tadashi’s room, swaddled in blankets. Snowflakes whirl around outside, casting the world in a gorgeous white glow. Tadashi is leaning against Kei’s chest, cheek pressed into his shoulder. His boyfriend’s arms are wrapped around him, and Tadashi can hear the faint beat of his heart through his chest. It should be a perfect moment.

But—Kei isn’t singing properly, only humming along with whatever is coming out of the earbuds perched precariously in his ears, and it’s driving Tadashi _nuts_.

Kei can sing, like, really, _really_ sing. He used to hear it more when they were younger and Kei was slightly less reserved, but the most Tadashi gets these days is when Kei hums under his breath as he listens to music while they do homework, and even that is rare. Kei always seems to catch himself or get distracted and stop. Tadashi senses that Kei finds it embarrassing, the way he finds so many things embarrassing, even though he’s so stupidly cool that nothing could possibly make him look unattractive.

Tadashi might be a little biased, but _still_! Tadashi loves Kei’s voice, and he hardly ever gets to hear it. Sue him for wanting his own boyfriend to sing for him.

The thing is—Tadashi isn’t sure whether to ask.

Kei hates vulnerability. Even now, he has moments where he goes red and ducks into his shirt like a turtle going into its shell, waiting to regain composure before he can continue with whatever they were doing. Tadashi is all for pushing his boyfriend out of his comfort zone—that’s proven by how far they’ve come in the months since they’ve been together.

But would this be selfish? This isn’t something really necessary for their relationship, not in the same way that breaking down Kei’s walls is. This is just…extra. Kei might give it to him, but would it be worth it? What if it’s too much?

“Hey.” Kei’s hand lands on his head, ruffling his hair. “You’re all tense. What’s wrong?”

Tadashi blinks, laughing sheepishly. “Whoops! Nothing, Tsukki. I was just thinking.”

Kei raises an eyebrow, reaching out from the warmth of the blankets to pause the song on his phone. Tadashi hisses a little as cold air rushes in at the motion, and Kei rolls his eyes, smirking faintly.

“Come on,” he says. “Something’s clearly bothering you.”

Tadashi worries at his lips, and Kei frowns, attention fixed on him fully now. Tadashi feels skewered by the intensity of that gaze.

“Just,” he tries, floundering. He can feel himself turning red and takes a moment to curse his body out with every swear he knows. “I was just thinking…about your music! Yeah, I was wondering what it was.” It’s not entirely a lie.

Kei’s eyebrow raises elegantly. Tadashi once spent an entire summer trying to copy it, and he still hasn’t been able to replicate the cool disdain in that single lift of muscle the way Kei effortlessly has.

“Tadashi,” he says, his voice serious. He pauses for a second, and Tadashi can see his brain whirring, that brilliant mind putting things together. Kei squints at him, and then he does something unexpected.

He smiles.

“Tadashi,” he says again, more lilting, a teasing edge to his words. “You know you’re allowed to ask me for things, too, right?”

“Tsukkiiiii,” Tadashi mutters. He can’t stop his own embarrassed smile, though. He’s been found out. “Okay, it’s just…would you sing for me?”

Kei stares at him. “What?”

“I like your voice,” Tadashi clarifies, rather needlessly in his opinion. “Can you sing for me? Like when you’re listening to music or just…ever?”

Kei blinks, then rubs at his cheeks. He’s blushing fiercely, his mouth twisted a little.

But he’s still smiling.

“Is that all?” Kei huffs. “You didn’t need to go to all that effort, you know. You should have just asked.”

“Okay, hypocrite,” Tadashi scoffs, surprise causing a grin to break out on his face. He buries his head into Kei’s shoulder again. “You’re right, though. I should have given you more credit. You’re growing up, Tsukki!”

His boyfriend flicks him lightly on the nose. “Shut up, Tadashi.”

Kei starts up his music again, and they lapse into comfortable silence. And then, a few minutes later, Kei softly starts to sing along with his music, his voice hesitant and clearly embarrassed, but warm and beautiful.

Tadashi curls up a little tighter into his boyfriend and basks.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed this! I would love comments and kudos <3 Happy holidays!


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